


Regret

by Lyatt1941



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fever, Injury, Injury Recovery, Pining, Regret, Triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-07 10:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16406600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyatt1941/pseuds/Lyatt1941
Summary: This is a behind the scenes/between the scenes view of the Salem episode to the beginning of Kennedy curse, mostly from Wyatt's perspective.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! During Lyattweek, I re-discovered a FINISHED fic that I wrote on the heels of the Season finale....I had completely forgotten about it and according to the date stamp, I wrote it at the same time I wrote my very first fic. It was quite literally an "Oh yeah!" moment. Because I'm currently in the throes of Torrent and dealing with LIFE, I have been polishing it up here and there whenever I get a chance so that I can share it with you all.  
> This is the first chapter....it's not long, none of the chapters will be because originally I wrote this as a very long one shot (because again, my first pic), but I wanted to share this with you all, so it wouldn't just sit in my computer after I spent time writing this thing out. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. It's nothing groundbreaking...just my take on Wyatt's reaction to what happened to the team in Salem.

 

Wyatt didn’t know what the hell he was doing.  Before he had even entered the bunker, he knew he was making a huge mistake. Despite everything, despite the fact that his most desperate wish had somehow, miraculously come true - that his wife, who had been dead for six years, was now suddenly alive, standing beside him - he knew, deep down, that this was not right.  At least, bringing her to the bunker wasn’t right – he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about everything else. 

 

Not yet. 

 

Lucy had told him to work things out with Jessica. Lucy had told him not to be sorry, but he was.

 

He had finally decided to let go, move on – move on with Lucy, and then the unthinkable happened. Jessica texted him and his entire world was flipped upside down.  How many times had he tried to save her?  How many times had he hoped to change the past?  What the hell happened in 1941 to cause this?  Why did it have to happen right after he and Lucy….well, he didn’t want to think about that right now…what was more pressing was what he was going to say to Lucy - to the entire team when he opened the door to the bunker and waltzed Jessica through the door.   The awkwardness alone was enough to make anyone say this was a bad idea, but they were in that damn bunker for a reason and OPSEC dictates that you don’t just bring your suddenly undead wives into your top-secret base of operations. 

 

_What the hell am I doing?_

 

Slowly, quietly, he and Jess made their way into the bunker. 

 

“This is where you work?” asked Jessica skeptically. 

 

Wyatt wasn’t really listening to her, his mind was focused on how he was going to introduce Jessica to Lucy, to the team – what would they think?  More importantly – how would Lucy feel? 

 

 _I am an idiot._  

 

But Lucy had told him to figure things out.  Granted, he was pretty damn sure she hadn’t meant for him to bring his once dead wife into their shared living space, but what the hell could he do?  After she had flashed him those divorce papers, his pride had taken a massive blow.  He had been an uncaring husband, she had said…more absent than present in their marriage and he had nothing to defend himself with.  Their memories of the past six years were different.  In his timeline, she had been dead and he had done nothing but live with the regret of losing her, of being partially responsible for her untimely demise.  In hers, he had not appreciated her, their marriage, any of it.  If the last six years had taught him anything, it was not to take things for granted and so now, with a chance to make up for past mistakes and years of guilt and regret, how could he not jump at the opportunity he now had for a second chance?

How could something he wanted for so long, feel like it was tearing him in two?

 

He couldn’t think about that right now…right now, he had to make Jessica see.

 

Jessica would NEVER believe in Time Travel and different timelines if he didn’t show her.  No, he needed to do this – he needed her to prove to her that he hadn’t been the uncaring, drunken jackass she had come to know in their marriage.   He had to redeem himself – after six years of mourning her death and blaming himself, he could not just walk away and _not_ try to make things better.  Besides, didn’t Jessica deserve that?  Didn’t she deserve to know that the husband she had known for six years was a far cry from the man who now stood beside her?  That his world had fallen apart when her strangled body had been found on the side of the road?  That from that moment he had become even more reckless than he had been, that he had stopped caring, that he had given up on ever finding love again.

 

Until Lucy. 

 

Oh hell, this was a very, very bad idea.        

 

His anxiety built with each and every step he took into the further recesses of the bunker.  The echo of their combined footfalls sounded like a death knell, marking the bitter end of his oh too short relationship with Lucy. Which, now that he took in their surroundings, was unusual.  He should not just be hearing the heavy tread of his boots as he made his way down the corridor.  He paused momentarily.  There was no bustle, no clanging of tools against metal, no peals of laughter, no anything…it was just quiet.  His heart caught in his throat and his feet seemed to move of their own accord when he suddenly realized the reason for the discomforting silence.  Turning the corner, he felt as though all of the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room as he stared at the large open and empty space that housed the LifeBoat. 

 

It was gone.

 

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

“You sent them with FLYNN?” Wyatt demanded of Agent Christopher.  “Why didn’t anyone tell me the Mothership had jumped?”

 

 But deep down he knew why.  He had abandoned his team.  He had abandoned Lucy.  And now they were relying on that murdering sonofabitch Flynn for protection. 

 

“He was not given a weapon, Wyatt.” Agent Christopher offered up as a means of conciliation.     

 

Wyatt gaped at her, “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

 

He really wasn’t sure how he felt about that little tidbit of information.  He didn’t trust Garcia Flynn as far as he could throw him.  He had spent the better part of a year trying to kill them and now he was fresh out of prison.  They had no reason to trust him, no reason to believe that he had changed his ways, no reason to think that he wouldn’t take the first opportunity to leave Lucy behind, kidnap Rufus and steal the LifeBoat.  Every possible scenario ran through Wyatt’s mind, none of them easing his distress about the situation at hand.  Flynn was with his team, with Lucy, in another century and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. 

 

“Wyatt, if you would have been here, this wouldn’t have been an issue.  You snuck out of here, you had us all worried – don’t you know that Rittenhouse is looking for any and every opportunity to take any one of you down?   And then you bring Jessica down here.” Agent Christopher sighed and shook her head.   

 

Wyatt flinched at the reprimand, though he wasn’t sure why.  He knew bringing her down here was a bad idea…but, as she said, he was top on Rittenhouse’s most wanted list, they would do anything to compromise or sideline him.  Now that Jessica was alive, that could mean…

 

“Ma’am with all due respect, she could be in danger.”

 

“Wyatt, I’m sympathetic, I am, but if Rittenhouse brought her back _she_ could be the danger.”

 

Wyatt had to admit to himself that he hadn’t thought of that.  If Rittenhouse had brought her back to lure him out of the bunker, he had certainly taken their bait, hook, line and sinker.  His recklessness had returned full force, it seems.  In hindsight, he should’ve been more cautious, should’ve been more careful about breaking out of the bunker in order to respond, in person, to a text from his dead wife. 

 

But that was just it…she was his wife.  This was Jessica.  He had known her since high school, married her right after training…he _knew_ her. No way in hell was she part of that Rittenhouse psycho club.  She was a damn bartender for Heaven’s sake.  She was completely oblivious to what had happened to her in his timeline. She had not asked for this…and who was to say she hadn’t been brought back unintentionally?  Maybe her return didn’t have to do with Rittenhouse at all. There was no way to know…but Wyatt was sure of one thing – his Jessica Logan had never heard of Rittenhouse, so on that front, at least, they were safe.

 

“Incidentally,“ Agent Christopher added, “Lucy DID call you before they left.  She told us you weren’t coming.”

 

Her words sent an icy chill through his heart.  So, the Mothership HAD jumped when he spoke with Lucy and she didn’t tell him.  He had asked…but she had apparently lied when she told him everything was fine.  Instead of telling him that they were gearing up for another mission, she had told him to take the time he needed to work things out with Jessica. He couldn’t be angry with her…hell, he had left her standing there without so much of a word as to where he was going…how could he expect her not to do that same to him?     

 

Holy shit. 

 

How could he have left Lucy, mid-flirtation like that?  Without so much as a hint to where he was going and why?  He told her over a damn phone call.  A phone call in which she had told him that she had been “happy” for him. His heart had nearly been ripped from his chest at those words.  How could she be happy for him after the night they shared?  How could she tell him that he shouldn’t be sorry that they were essentially over before they had even really begun?  Wyatt thought with a pang that perhaps she hadn’t felt for him as much as he had felt for her…not that it mattered anymore.  With Jessica back, he was a married man…and dammit, he was not going to let this second chance go to waste.  He couldn’t…even if his feelings for Lucy made him feel like a man torn in two.   

 

And now he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see her again.  Dammit he should’ve been here.  

 

 He took a deep breath.  “Where did they go?”

 

Agent Christopher looked up at him with a solemn grimace across her features, “Salem, 1692.”    


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed and yet the Silo remained unnervingly empty.  Wyatt considered that must be what it was like for the rest of the bunker while they were away on their missions.  When he had arrived, Jiya and Mason were going over schematics of some sort, tinkering here and there with the computer systems, not really focused on the fact that the team was gone.   Now Mason was holed up in his room and Jiya was lounging on what passed as a sofa, reading a book. 

 

Wyatt thought that perhaps he should take the “time off” to reconnect with Jessica, but he found himself at a loss for what to say.  He showed her around the bunker, told her a little about their missions and what they did. With Agent Christopher’s help, he relayed to Jessica the changes that had occurred in their respective timelines. With no time machine, however, she was understandably skeptical…but Wyatt hoped that she would come to understand and appreciate that he was, as crazy as it sounded, telling the truth; that she had died six years ago and had suddenly reappeared…very much alive.  

 

All too soon, Wyatt ran out of things to say.  What _do_ you say to the woman you buried six years prior?  What had her last six years been like?  One question to that effect, however, had Wyatt wishing he had never asked it.  She related people and places to him that he had no memory of…trips that he didn’t take, fights they didn’t have, counseling sessions that he had never attended.  It was the most awkward exchange of his life. Jessica must have thought so too, because not much later, she deemed herself tired and asked if she could lie down some place.  Showing her to his cot, Wyatt was very much relieved to be out of her presence for a little while…which made him pause again. 

 

Shouldn’t he be ecstatic that Jessica was alive, lying on his bed, just down the hall?  Shouldn’t he be wrapped up in her arms, promising to never let her go?  She was his wife.  He had made a vow to her…so why was he now pacing the floor worried sick about Lucy? Yes, he cared about Lucy…even loved her…though he had yet to admit that…but she was not his wife and so shouldn’t his feelings for her be ebbing in the wake of his lightning bolt?  Why did he feel more connected to her than the woman he had mourned for so long?   

 

More hours ticked by and now, even Jiya was showing obvious signs of nervous agitation…which did nothing to quell Wyatt’s uneasy emotions.  The Lifeboat had been gone far too long.  He watched her as she sat biting her nails, twisting her hands and pacing the floor.

 

_What the hell was taking so long?_

 

Once more Wyatt was hit with the painful and harsh truth that he should have been there.  Instead he had been thoughtless, reckless, and completely selfish…he rushed off without so much as a word to his team, to Lucy, to anyone and now who knew what the hell was going on in Salem 1692?  They were relying on Flynn for protection.  Flynn, the man who had tried to kill them for more than year.  Flynn, the man who was laboring under the belief that they had all betrayed him. Sure, they just broke him out of prison…but what the hell kind of assurance did Wyatt have that he wouldn’t abandon them all?  Turn against them?  He didn’t trust Garcia Flynn as far as he could throw him…and yet, he was forced to hold out a hope that the man, whom he believed was as psychotic as he was ruthless, would come through for the people he cared about most in the world.  It was a tall order.  Every second that ticked by increased his anxiety tenfold.  They were at Flynn’s mercy…and if anything happened to either one of them, Wyatt would never forgive himself.   

 

Dinner was a somber occasion.  No one ate much, no one talked much.  The apprehension that hung in the air due to the continued absence of the rest of the team coupled with the awkwardness surrounding the arrival of their newest guest made things more than a little tense at the dinner table.  Wyatt breathed out a sigh of relief when Mason finally suggested breaking open his newest bottle of scotch; in part, Wyatt was sure to ease everyone’s nerves a bit, but also to help Jessica deal with the shock that would surely come when the LifeBoat finally did return.  Even being halfway prepared for it, as she was, Wyatt knew that it would probably affect her greatly.  He remembered with a soft smirk and a pang in his heart how Lucy had reacted.  She had run out of the damn building, only to be pulled back in by Agent Christopher…and now she was out there, without him…relying on that sonofabitch Flynn for protection.   

 

_Dammit, where was that LifeBoat??_


	4. Chapter 4

 

With a surge of energy and blast of wind, the LifeBoat finally materialized, landing in the Silo with a deafening clank of metal on concrete.  Wyatt sighed in relief.  They were back…and hopefully, all was well.  No matter what had happened in Salem, Rufus was obviously well enough to pilot them back…that was something.  It gave him hope as he stood there waiting for the hatch to open and reveal its occupants.   The presence of the team and the time machine in the bunker was not only a balm to Wyatt’s troubled heart and mind, it was also his vindication – how could Jessica not believe his claims of altering timelines and ripple effects with solid proof whirring just a few yards away?

 

As relief at the sight of the LifeBoat settled in his chest, Wyatt felt himself suddenly anxious for another reason.  - once more, he was troubled about how Lucy would react to the presence of Jessica in the bunker.  He watched with bated breath as the hatch slid open and was overwhelmed by the rush of happiness he felt when it was Lucy who first emerged.  She was alive and the small smile she offered him filled him with something that felt a lot like hope.  

 

Hope for what, exactly, he had no idea.    

 

As he made his way up the stairs to her and she straightened, he suddenly realized that something was very wrong.  Lucy was pale and clutching her arm which was bleeding freely.  Forgetting all else, Wyatt rushed up the stairs towards her only to halt at the sight of the stony expression that slowly spread across her face. The small smile she had offered, the soft expression of her eyes had faded into a stoic mask that almost hid the pain in her eyes as she looked beyond him.  Following her line of sight, Wyatt turned in brief confusion until his eyes rested on the awe-stricken face of Jessica. 

_Dammit._

In those few short moments of concern and anxiety, he had completely forgotten she was even there. His only thought was for Lucy and what had happened to her...and he did;t know quite what to do with that at the moment.  Of course he still cared for Lucy.  They were still part of a team, after all.  They had been best friends.  _Friends._ He hated the thought of reducing their relationship to that platonic word.  It hurt him more than he cared to admit, now, in this moment when he wanted nothing more than to take Lucy up in his arms and take care of her.  It was his own damn fault for bringing Jessica into this mess…but what could he do?  He was married now and Lucy had told him that she was happy for him, that this was a good thing.  Why then, did he feel that whatever this thing was, it was very, very wrong? 

 

Lucy needed him…he had promised her that she hadn’t lost him and he was determined to make good on that promise...until Garcia Flynn stepped out of the LifeBoat and took Lucy by the elbow. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the man who had tried to murder them all countless times the year before.  The man whom Wyatt could never be brought to fully trust.  He towered over Lucy, who seemed so small and delicate beside him, and with a knowing eye he cast his gaze from Lucy to Jessica and then back once more to the ashen faced historian.  Tucking his hand under her uninjured arm, Flynn assisted Lucy down the stairs. Wyatt wanted nothing more than to express how sorry he was for putting her in what he realized was a terribly awkward situation, but she refused to meet his gaze.  Instead, Garcia Flynn stared Wyatt down as he slowly backed his way off the staircase to let them pass.  On level ground now, Wyatt stood aside as Flynn continued to sneer at him, leading Lucy away…away from him, away from Jessica…away from the emotional pain he had just inflicted with the presence of his not so dearly departed wife.  

 

Wyatt stood stock still staring after Flynn leading Lucy away from him. _Flynn._ The psychopath – the man who had murdered Lincoln, the man who had left them stranded in 1754, the man who had kidnapped Lucy was now giving her the assistance and comfort that Wyatt so desperately wanted to offer…and should have been in the position to offer…

 

If not for Jessica.

 

Wyatt felt his jaw clench and balled up his fists.  He hated Garcia Flynn.  He hated him even more as he watched him play the hero to Lucy’s damsel in distress. He was all concern and attention, ordering Agent Christopher to get her some medical attention, asking Mason to get Lucy some brandy, setting Lucy down on a cushioned chair to rest until she could be looked after.  W _hat the hell happened in Salem?  How did Lucy even get hurt?_  Wyatt inwardly cursed Flynn for being so careless with her.  Never, in the entire time they went on missions together, did Lucy ever get hurt under Wyatt’s watchful eye.  True, Flynn did kidnap her in 1780, but she had managed to outsmart the bastard and ended up saving their asses from H.H. Holmes’ cellar of death.  

Now here she was, injured, for the first time and Wyatt hadn’t been there to protect her.  He hadn’t been there to know what the hell she had gone through.  He tore his eyes away from the infuriating sight of Garcia Flynn soothing Lucy as Agent Christopher examined her wound, and glanced over to a shaken Rufus.    

 

“Hey, man what happened?” Wyatt asked with grave concern.   

 

Rufus stared back at him scathingly, “Where the hell were you Wyatt?  We could’ve really used you on this trip, ya know?” He glanced over at Jessica who was staring at the time machine in wonder, “Look, I know you’ve had your own thing” he said motioning towards Jessica, “but dammit Wyatt, we could’ve died.”

 

Wyatt flinched, “Flynn was that bad, huh?”

 

Rufus shrugged, “Well, he shot like a bat out of hell the minute those damn Puritans arrested me and Lucy.” Wyatt gaped at him as Rufus continued, “But turns out he was just trying to find a musket…I kinda regret not letting him have a gun on this trip if I’m being totally honest.” 

 

Wyatt huffed impatiently, “Rufus, what the hell happened?”

 

“Well, long story short, the 1600s suck.  Lucy’s mother showed up and tried to have us hanged.  She accused Lucy of witchcraft…

 

“Wait…what?  Lucy’s mother accused her of witchcraft?”

 

“Sure did,” Rufus retorted. “I got chained up to a racist Pilgrim, Lucy spent most of the day in jail…” 

 

“You’re telling me that her mother tried to have her hanged?” Wyatt asked in a voice of shocked disbelief.   

 

“Um… _us_ hanged, Wyatt…pay attention.” Rufus shook his head in frustration, “Yeah, she came to see her in jail apparently…spouting off some bullshit excuse, asking her to come back to Rittenhouse.”  Wyatt’s eyes narrowed at the thought of Carol Preston essentially backing her own daughter into a corner; having her choose between life and death.  “To be honest,” Rufus said with a sigh, “I really thought we were done for this time.  Flynn was nowhere to be seen, Lucy had a mangy little knife her mother slipped her so she could escape with her on the Mothership, but other than that, we were essentially screwed.  We were headed to the gallows when Flynn showed up with that musket.”  Rufus let out a small chuckle, “I never thought I’d be so happy to see Flynn with a gun…he saved our asses.”

 

Wyatt scoffed, “Yeah, but Lucy got hurt.”

 

Rufus gave him an understanding nod, “Yeah, she did…but it could’ve been worse.  I saw the guy come at her with a knife.  She was so busy trying to get Abi Franklin to safety she didn’t see him.”

 

“Where the hell was Flynn?” Wyatt said with a clenched jaw.

 

“He was taking care of things,” Rufus assured, “Lucy was just in the middle of the fray.”  Rufus slapped him on the shoulder, “she was kind of badass on this mission, Wyatt.  She just went for it and saved a whole lot of people in the process.”

 

Wyatt felt a surge of pride, but it was quickly followed by a heartache.  Lucy had never been one to throw herself into the fray.  Hell, even when she saved their asses in Chicago, she had done so with the help of Houdini.  He had done the double-cross and entrapped Flynn, while she was being guarded.  The last time she had thrown herself in harm’s way was the Alamo mission, when she had saved him from the brink of self-destruction…and he had saved her, in Paris 1919 when she was ready to sacrifice herself because she thought he was dead.  Wyatt clenched his eyes in sorrow at the recollection.  He had told her she hadn’t lost him…and though he was still here, still near enough to hear her muffled sobs as they cleaned her wound, he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. Flynn standing there watching the proceedings, offering words of soothing comfort stabbed him in the heart with a pang of jealously the likes of which he had never felt before…but he couldn’t be angry at Flynn.  No, the sonofabitch had saved her life and was now playing the part that he – Wyatt – should have been playing.  No.  He wasn’t angry at Flynn.  He was angry at himself.    

 

“You okay?” Rufus asked him with a wary eye as Wyatt stared at Lucy and Flynn. 

 

“I don’t know.” Wyatt muttered softly. “I don’t know anything, anymore.” 


	5. Chapter 5

As Wyatt watched Rufus disappear into the recesses of the bunker with Jiya, he was left to ponder on everything the pilot had told him about the mission.  Lucy had essentially lost Wyatt that day…Jessica was back and that meant their brief relationship was over.  He flinched as the finality of it all hit him like a ton of bricks.  It wasn’t just that their physical relationship was dead in the water, their professional relationship would never be the same.  How could it? Holding her, protecting her, watching her…how could he do any of those things without being transported to 1941? How could he live in a bunker with her, be near her…but keep an arm’s length distance between them?  Yes…she had lost him…after he had sworn she hadn’t. After she had broken down in tears at the belief that all was lost, he had comforted her, given her that life line she so desperately needed…and now, she really had lost everything.  Her own mother tried to have her killed –be killed or join Rittenhouse – and Lucy had once again, set herself up for the ultimate destruction.  She would die rather than join their ranks…and he wasn’t there for her…couldn’t be there for her.  His heart might as well have been blasted to bits with that hand grenade she held in 1918 for the way it shattered for her now. 

 

Blinking back tears of regret and sorrow, Wyatt stared across the seemingly endless space towards Jessica who was looking rather pale and shaky.  The sight of her, alive, after so many years of mourning, so many years of guilt overwhelmed him with emotion.  He had failed her.  It was his damn fault she had been killed in the first place, but now, now after all of this time he finally had her back and he was in love with another woman. The guilt he felt was like a vice on his soul.  Affair. Adultery.  He was guilty of both.  Not intentionally.  But he was still guilty.  The ring that now graced his finger was a harsh reminder that he was not free to care about Lucy in that way anymore and as much as it killed him to do it, he needed to snuff out the flame she had ignited in his heart.  

 

She had saved him, she had given his life purpose again…and for one brief shining moment they had been deliriously happy.  _Happy_.   Lucy had told him that she was happy for him when she found out Jessica was alive. She had told him that this was a “good thing” and reminded him that this…Jessica…his wife, was what he wanted…and had wanted for six damn years.  He watched as Flynn escorted Lucy to her room as the Army Medic who had been called in to assist arrived to address her injuries.  As much as he wanted to go to Lucy to comfort her, to offer her some assurance of his love, to tell her how sorry he was for causing her any more pain…he knew, with one look back at Jessica, he couldn’t.  He would be forced to be a bystander, an unconcerned team mate, a friend.   Lucy had told him to figure things out, she was happy for him, she didn’t want him to choose her, she wanted him to choose Jessica – his lightning bolt, his obsession for six long and until recently, painfully lonely years.   

 

Steeling himself for the pain of breaking the connection he had with Lucy, he took Jessica to the only private place in the bunker, the bathroom, in an attempt to fix whatever the hell had gone on in the six years she had spent with some other jack ass version of himself.  Tears flowed freely as he explained how his world fell apart the night she had disappeared and how devastated he was when she had been found…dead.

 

“I’m not DEAD, Wyatt” she argued back angrily.  

 

Obviously. 

 

Still Wyatt had to make her understand.  He wasn’t the same husband she had known in her timeline.  Six years of grief and mourning had made him appreciate the little things.  How much he had missed just the sound of her voice…the voice which was now, barking back in anger at him as he tried to explain how lost he felt when she had been taken from him.  He couldn’t blame her for the hurt she was feeling, the hurt he had put her through…the hurt she would undoubtedly feel if she ever found out that his heart was not here in this dingy bathroom but somewhere beyond that rusty door, hurt, in more ways than one. 

 

Still, she was his wife…and eventually, he believed, that just as cooly as Lucy had dismissed their relationship, he might be able to do the same.  It would just take them some time to get to know each other again and all would be well.  His feelings for Lucy would subside…they had to…because he had made a commitment to Jessica. Like Lucy said, this was what he had wanted more than anything.  He swallowed hard as the ache in his heart threatened to make him second guess himself. Jessica was his wife, he was in a committed relationship with her and this…this was the chance that he had hoped and prayed for so long.  The chance to show Jessica how much he appreciated her and how sorry he was for what had happened that night six years ago.  He begged and pleaded for a second chance…he needed that opportunity.  Now that she was alive again, now that she had miraculously returned from the grave, how ungrateful would he be if he didn’t throw himself back into his marriage and prove to both Jessica and himself that he wasn’t the world class sonofabitch his father was. 

 

Jessica sneered at him, doubtful of his sincerity.  He didn’t blame her.  After everything she had told him he had been guilty of, after he knew he was partially responsible for her death in his timeline, he could never blame her for not trusting him with her heart.  Still, he hoped she would consider. 

 

She needed time to think, she said.  She had to know he was serious this time…and considering her staying with him would mean leaving her life above ground and living in some dank, rusty old bunker…it was a lot to ask.    

 

She wanted to rest…needed to rest.  It had been an overwhelming day.  Wyatt couldn’t even imagine how she must feel…she had started off the day expecting to deliver divorce papers and instead discovered that she had been killed in his reality and that time travel was real.  It was enough to make anybody’s head spin.  He offered her his cot…made sure she was comfortable...

 

“Well..where are you going to sleep?” Jessica asked with slight concern.

 

“Don’t worry about me…I can crash anywhere.” Wyatt said with a sigh. 

 

As he closed the door to his room, he let out a shaky breath.  Jessica, Lucy...he was a man divided in two.  His loyalty was with the woman behind this door...had been for years...even after her death.  But now, his heart was with the woman who had become such an important part of his life...the woman who was now hurting in more ways than one.  He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and paced in front of his room restlessly.  There was no way in hell he was getting any sleep tonight.

No...he needed to see Lucy.   


	6. Chapter 6

As Wyatt made his way, resolutely, towards Lucy’s room, he couldn’t help but feel that every resounding step he took in that direction, mocked him in his concern for the woman he had so carelessly abandoned in favor for the woman who now a mere stranger to him. He was returning to the scene of the crime, as it were; the very room where he had sworn that Lucy hadn’t lost him. As he neared her door, he hesistated…he was probably the last person she wanted to see right now and though he wouldn’t blame her tossing him out on his ass the minute he stepped foot in her room, he didn’t think he would be able to bear her rejection of him. 

 

Not that he didn’t deserve it.

 

Still, it was Lucy…and he still cared about her.  Jessica being back may have forced a change in their relationship, but he couldn’t just make his feelings for her disappear, he couldn’t act indifferent when he knew she was in pain.  He resumed his march towards her bedroom, when the sight of Garcia Flynn emerging from it made him freeze in his tracks. 

 

The older man sneered down at him, “Don’t you think you’ve hurt her enough for one day?  Why don’t you just leave her alone?  The doctor knows what he’s doing, she’ll be alright.”

 

“Stay out of it, Flynn” Wyatt snapped back.  He hated the man, even more now that he knew that he had been taking Wyatt’s place by Lucy’s side in her moment of need. 

 

Flynn shrugged indifferently at Wyatt’s acidic comeback, “I’m sorry, I thought maybe you’d have better things to do with your time…like catch up with your _wife_.

 

Wyatt’s fists clenched at his side.  He had been against the whole plan to bust this murdering sonofabitch out of jail, and yet he had gone along with it…for Lucy…for the team.  Now he was wishing he played no part in bringing the asshole into their lives again. 

 

The tension in the air was thick as the two men stood just feet apart from one another, looking as if they’d like nothing better than to have a good old fashioned beat down right here in the hall.  Rufus approached the scene cautiously, looking back and forth between both men, lest he become an unfortunate victim of collateral damage in their attempt to kill one another with their bare hands.  “Um…I don’t mean to interrupt this heart to heart…but Flynn, Agent Christopher is asking for your debrief.”

 

“On my way” and Flynn with smug smile.  He took one last long look at Wyatt and strode out of sight. 

 

“What was that about?” asked Rufus. 

 

“Oh, you know Flynn. He’s rubbing my face in all of this mess...told me I’d hurt Lucy enough.” He said dejectedly. 

 

“You can say that again” Rufus scoffed as Wyatt’s eyes darted to his, pained that Rufus stood in agreement with their former enemy. Rufus raised his eyebrows at Wyatt’s obvious look of betrayal, “Well, I’m sorry, Wyatt, but he’s right. How could you bring your dead wife back here after what happened between you and Lucy?  Do you have any idea what that is going to do to her? Rufus whispered harshly.

 

Wyatt raked his hand roughly across his face in frustration and self-reproach.  “I know…I know…but I couldn’t just leave her up there.  What if Rittenhouse got to her?”  Rufus offered him a sympathetic shrug, “Besides, Lucy told me to work things out with Jessica.”

 

He knew as soon as the words escaped his lips he was a damn idiot for trying to use that as an excuse for their now incredibly awkward situation.  Right on cue and just as expected, Rufus gaped at him and with raised eyebrows and stated, “I’m pretty sure she wasn’t expecting you to bring your wife down here to live with all of us.” 

 

Wyatt collapsed against the wall, “I know.  I screwed up, okay?” 

 

“That’s an understatement.” Rufus scoffed.  “Listen man, I don’t mean to give you a hard time, alright?  It’s just been a long day and so I think I’m just gonna hit the showers and go to bed.”

 

Wyatt groaned, “About that…”

 

Rufus gaped at him, “Tell me you did not give up my bed to your dead wife.”

 

“She’s not dead anymore, Rufus.” Wyatt hissed.  “Look, I didn’t know what else to do…where was I supposed to put her?  On the couch?  With Lucy?”   

 

“Yeah…you really didn’t think this through, did you?”  Wyatt grimaced miserably and Rufus softened, “Look, don’t worry about the cot, man, I’ll crash out here on the sofa until we can figure something else out.” 

 

“Thanks, Rufus.” Wyatt muttered.   

 

“Alright, well I’m gonna go hit the showers before Flynn slithers in there and takes all the hot water. Between you and me, I think he’s gonna be a damn diva around here….even moreso than Mason.”

 

Wyatt chuckled dryly as Rufus waved at him heading off to the showers. 

 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the wall and resumed his trek back to Lucy’s room when Jiya emerged out of it, carrying a bundle of bloodied clothes and makeshift banadages. 

 

“Jiya,” Wyatt whispered harshly, “is she going to be alright?  Can I see her?  Can I talk to her?” 

 

“She’s not gonna be able to do much talking, Wyatt.  The doc gave her some pretty potent pain killers and an antibiotic.  They’re just finishing her stitches now – she’s already out of it. “She gave him a sympathetic frown,  “Besides, Lucy’s kinda been through enough today – let her sleep – she needs that more than anything ya know?.”

 

He knew Jiya was being sincere…she was trying to get under his skin like Flynn was previously.  Yet still, it was the same message.  He had hurt her enough for one day…hell, he had hurt her enough for a lifetime…and so his rights even as a friend were revoked. No friend would’ve abandoned her like that.  No friend would have darted out of here with no explanation.    

 

Wyatt felt helpless as he watched Jiya disappear to discard the heaps of soiled garments and bloodied gauze.  Wyatt slid down the wall and sat with his head in his hands until Agent Christopher appeared fresh off of her debrief with Flynn, apparently.

 

“Wyatt?” she asked tentatively, “What are you doing here in the hall?”

 

He straightened up, “Oh…I’m sorry….I just…” but what he was he couldn’t quite get out.  He didn’t even know what the hell he was doing there. 

 

With a knowing look, Agent Christopher frowned at him sympathetically, “It was only a laceration, Wyatt.  She’s going to be fine.”  He nodded with a face full of emotion, something that did not pass her wizened notice.  “I was just about to go in to check on her myself, care to join me?”

 

Wyatt was at once grateful to be able to have an opportunity to visit Lucy and ashamed that he had altered their relationship so much by his recklessness that the only way he could see her, the woman he loved, was with a chaperone.  The medical team the medic had brought with him was busy as they entered the secluded space.  They were packing up their bags, discarding used materials…the whole area was awash in lab coats and antiseptic aromas.  Lucy was laying on her cot on top pf the covers, already deep in asleep…drugged, Wyatt surmised.  Her arm was heavily bandaged and in a sling, her hair fanned over the pillow like it had been just the morning before when she woke up in his arms and Wyatt gave an audible sigh at the sight of her.   

 

Agent Christopher had left her place at Wyatt’s side and was busy talking with the medic about Lucy’s condition.  Wyatt gave them both a sidelong glance before quickly kneeling by her bedside and placing a gentle hand on her cheek.  “I’m so sorry, Lucy.” he whispered harshly, knowing that it was silly to apologize now…when she couldn’t hear him...when he had just begged Jessica for a second chance. What the hell kind of person was he?

 

Tears filled his eyes as he shifted the covers around her slight form, taking care not to jostle her too much or bump her wounded arm.  As he tucked her in, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead only to turn away to find both Agent Christopher and Jiya staring at him.   He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “I just…l” Wyatt began with a voice full of emotion, “look after her Jiya.

 

And without looking back at Lucy, Wyatt brushed past the other two women, and quickly left the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this FIC so long ago...and as I'm polishing bits of it up...a little at a time...I am reminded, once more, at how FRUSTRATED I was (and am) that Wyatt and Rufus did not have a conversation about all of this. That is the whole reason I wrote this piece...because I was just so unhappy with so many things. I love this show....don't get me wrong...but OH THE ANGST. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please leave a review if you are so inclined. I still have a bit more to polish up for this piece...I just do it whenever I get a free moment as I'm desperately trying to finish Torrent before the holidays come full swing...LOL.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Wyatt hadn’t gotten any sleep.  He had laid in his room staring intermittently between the ceiling and his undead wife in the next cot.  He should have been overjoyed at seeing Jessica lying there, across the room…alive…but all he could think about was Lucy.  It was well before 5AM when Wyatt finally shuffled into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.  Taking care not to wake a snoring Rufus, Wyatt stood silently by the sink and sipped on the stimulating brew.  His mind was a fog, he was confused, conflicted…a complete mess. 

 

As he held the warm mug in his calloused hands, he became vaguely aware of the rush of whispered voices coming from down the hall.  With a sharp eye, he turned his attention to the shadows flitting along the darkened corridor.  Stealthily moving past the table, he saw Jiya urgently running towards the bathroom door, a look of fear in her eyes.

 

S _omething was wrong._

Quickly, Wyatt made his way down the hall towards Lucy’s room.  Jiya had already exited the bathroom and was just steps ahead of him as she rushed towards the door.  He wanted to call out, but the early hour made him think better of it.  He didn’t want to disturb anyone in the bunker, least of all…his wife.   As he turned the corner, he saw Jiya rushing through the bedroom door with a washcloth in her hand, a look of fear on her face.  If that wasn’t enough to set his heart racing, the sight of Agent Christopher pacing outside the door of Lucy’s room on her cell phone had him going from mildly concerned to full-blown panic.

 

“Yes, please come as soon as possible.  We’re doing everything we can, but we’re not exactly equipped to deal with a medical emergency.”  Agent Christopher nodded as she listened to instructions from the other end of the line, finally returning with a shaky voice, “We’ll be waiting.”

 

Wyatt was fully alarmed now as he brushed past the Homeland Security Agent and looked inside the room. Lucy was where he left her hours before, but now she was pale, sweaty, and limp.  Jiya was nervously applying wet washcloths all over her head and neck, her hands shaking as she did so.  Dread threatened to overtake him as he rounded on Agent Christopher, “What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

 

Looking up at Wyatt with a face full of motherly concern, she frowned as she explained, “Lucy spiked a fever sometime in the middle of the night.  Jiya got worried when it reached 104 and called me.  The doctor is on his way now.”

 

Wyatt crossed the room. He knew, from his time in the military, what sepsis looked like.  Guys injured in the field with no access to immediate medical attention were at risk. He took Lucy’s pulse, her skin was clammy and cold, her pulse was racing, her breathing was shallow.  He took off the bandages on her arm and saw the angry red scar, the inflamed skin, the stitches oozing.  Panic rose in his chest again, this time causing him to run his hands frantically through his hair as he paced her room.  “She’s got an infection, it’s bad.”

 

This couldn’t be happening. Just two days ago they had woken up together, happy with the promise of a new beginning, a new life for both of them.

 

And then he left her.

 

Wyatt hated himself in that moment.  He did this. He should have been there to protect her.  This was all his fault.  If he lost her, if she died, it was all on him…because he had been too damn reckless, too damn impatient.  For one brief moment, he had a terrifying thought that if Jessica was the danger, as Agent Christopher had suggested, then he would have lost Lucy for nothing. He would’ve walked right into Rittenhouse’s damn trap and failed to live up to what he had spat back at Emma Whitmore in 1918…that he could protect Lucy from her…from them. 

 

And here she was…possibly dying. 

 

He couldn’t help but let out a derisive laugh at the irony of it all – he had beaten himself up over Jessica’s death for years, wishing he could go back and change that night when he left her on the side of the road.   Now, he had her back and she had no longer been murdered– he had gotten his wish, his chance, but it seemed to come at the expense of Lucy.   A life for a life, it seemed.   The universe was playing some kind of sick joke and it was all at Wyatt’s expense.  .  He kicked out at the door to her room in self-reproach and anger. 

 

“Wyatt!” Agent Christopher scolded him.  “Maybe you should go and wait for the medical team.  They should be here shortly.”  She gave him a warning glare, “Getting worked up like this isn’t going to help anybody.”

 

Reluctantly and with a face twisted in anguish, Wyatt left Lucy’s room and ran down the main corridor to the bunker door.  It felt like ages before the medical team arrived, but they did arrive, and Wyatt let out a sigh of relief as they came rushing though the door.  Wyatt followed in their wake and stood outside Lucy’s room watching helplessly as they called out “Temp is 104.8, blood pressure, low.” He felt his knees give way slightly as they started an IV to pump Lucy full of antibiotics and fluids.

 

Jiya sat by Lucy’s bedside, biting the nails on her left hand while holding Lucy’s hand with her right. Agent Christopher turned and gave Wyatt a sympathetic frown as he stood leaning against her doorframe looking absolutely powerless to do more than watch the scene unfolding before him. She stepped away from Lucy’s bedside and approached him with kindness, “Why don’t you go and fix yourself something to eat. I’ll keep you updated on any developments.”

 

Wyatt stared back at her sardonically.  Food was the last thing on his mind, but he knew as he studied her careworn face that she was just trying to keep him from working himself into a frenzy over Lucy’s condition.  Nodding slightly, he frowned as he backed away out of her room and made his way down the hall.  There was nothing he could do.  He knew that. Nothing he could do but wait.


	8. Chapter 8

“Hey man, what’s going on? You’re up early.” Rufus observed as Wyatt came storming into the small kitchenette in search of a cup of coffee. 

 

Wyatt sighed and in a failed attempt at nonchalance he breathed out, “Lucy’s in bad shape, the medical team is with her now…”

 

Rufus put a comforting hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’s gonna be…”

 

“Hey!  There you are!” Jessica’s voice called from the corridor causing Wyatt to jump.  She smiled brightly at him as she made her way towards the hesitated seeing the look on Wyatt’s face.  “Something wrong?” 

 

Flynn piped up as he made his way over to the kitchen from the common room, “Oh nothing Wyatt needs to concern himself about.  He should be more worried about what to make you for breakfast…uh…Jessica, was it?”

 

Jessica grinned and nodded at Garcia Flynn who was positively sneering at Wyatt.

 

He had chased that asshole through centuries, protected Lucy from his countless assaults, saw him safely put behind bars and now here he was, chiding him over his now strained relationship with the woman who meant more to him than anything else in the world.

 

Except now she wasn’t the only woman who meant something to him. 

 

As if he could read his mind, Flynn chuckled dryly as he placed his now drained coffee mug in the sink. Ignoring the murderous glare Wyatt was shooting his way, he laid his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Now, now Wyatt you can’t let your wife know you are worried about another woman now can you?   

 

With that last jab, Garcia Flynn strode out of the common area and towards the confines of his room. Grateful to see that Flynn was no longer skulking around Lucy’s room, Wyatt forced a smile at Jessica and began fixing her breakfast.  He didn’t make a thing for himself, he couldn’t have eaten if he tried. 

 

Once again, he attempted to make small talk with his wife, but it was incredibly awkward.  His mind was too wrapped up in Lucy and her illness for chit chat, but he had to focus, he had to try.  As much as he hated to admit it, Flynn was right.  How could he make things work with Jessica, prove that he was a better husband, if he was constantly thinking about Lucy? 

 

The medical team didn’t leave the bunker until the end of the day.  Lucy had been given several courses of antibiotics and her fever had finally subsided before the team deemed her condition stable enough to take their leave.  Despite assurances of her improvement throughout the day, Wyatt was climbing the walls with anxiety and worry, frustrated that he couldn’t even take his turn at sitting with her without arousing suspicion from Jessica.  As it was, Jiya, Rufus and even Flynn had each taken turns sitting with her, keeping her spirits up when she had rare moments of wakefulness.

 

When the medical unit left the bunker, Wyatt fought the overwhelming urge to rush towards Lucy’s room.  It was dinner time, Rufus had taken his meal back to Lucy and Jessica, chatting with Jiya and Mason was sufficiently distracted…but Flynn’s watchful eye kept Wyatt rooted to the spot.

 

Wyatt soon joined Jessica and Jiya for a movie in the common room…anything to get his mind off of his current frustration, but no matter how many times he tried to focus on the plot of the film or zone in on the fact that the woman currently curled up next to him was the wife that he had loved and lost and should be beyond grateful for, he could not keep his thoughts from wandering back to the darkened recess of Lucy’s room, wondering if she was awake, if she was in pain…if she had asked for him.

 

A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.  Rufus had slinked into the kitchen to deposit his dishes from dinner.  Wyatt slid off the couch and joined him, “Hey, how’s she doing?”

 

“Better”, Rufus said after taking a swig of beer. “She still has a fever, but it’s not high.  She’s got more color – definitely looks better than she did earlier.”  Rufus shook his head,  “Man, when you told me she was in a bad state, you weren’t kidding.” 

 

“Is she alone now?”

 

“No, Flynn said he’d sit in there with her until Jiya was ready to take over.” Rufus said with a shrug.

 

Wyatt started at the news. “Flynn?  What the hell?  “Why is Flynn in there?  You could have…” Wyatt stopped short.

 

Rufus finished for him…”gotten you?  Dude, your wife is RIGHT there!”

 

 Wyatt looked down and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I know.  I know.  But Rufus, it doesn’t change the way I feel about Lucy.”

 

Rufus pursed his lips in thought before answering quietly, “I know, man and I’m sorry…but, you have to think about Lucy in all of this.  She…

 

“…doesn’t deserve this. Yeah.” Wyatt nodded before heading back to the couch, plopping down next to Jessica with a sigh. 

 

Jessica looked over at him “You okay?”  Wyatt nodded silently trying to smile, but managing only a small smirk.  She studied him for a moment and then whispered, “Alright then.  I’m going to go ahead and turn in…you coming?  Or are you going to stay out here for some guy time?” 

 

“You go ahead, I’ll be in later” Wyatt said.  He could see Rufus eyeballing him over his beer bottle. 

 

As Jessica walked away, Rufus came over to the couch.  “Wyatt, Lucy’s gonna be okay. The medical team would have taken her to the hospital if there was any reason to worry.  They wouldn’t have left if they weren’t absolutely sure she was going to get better.” 

 

“I know”, Wyatt sighed. “it’s just”…he couldn’t find the words to say.

 

Rufus clapped him on the back “Look Wyatt, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now, man.  I’m pretty sure nobody has ever experienced this before.”  Wyatt let out a derisive laugh and shook his head.  “But you have to think about Lucy and what this is going to do to her.  You’re going to have to give her space, especially with your wife here.”

 

“But Rufus, I can’t just turn off my feelings for Lucy.  I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Rufus consigned.

 

Wyatt decided to head off to bed, but as he made his way down the corridor, he saw Flynn slipping into his room…which meant that Lucy was alone.  Quickly and as quietly as he could he made his way down the hall towards Lucy’s room.  She was sleeping and as Wyatt observed with a sigh of relief, she did seem to be in a much better state than she had been earlier that day.  Crouching down beside her, he brought the sheets up around her slim frame and brushed her hair away from her face, his heart breaking that he had been so absent when she needed him the most. 

 

“The medical team assures me that she’s going to be just fine.” Agent Christopher’s voice called out softly from the corner. 

 

Wyatt jumped, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He straightened himself up, shame-faced, “I was just checking on her before bed.”

 

Agent Christopher put down the book she had been reading, her usual business like demeanor replaced by one of motherly concern.  She was wrapped in a thin blanket sitting on a chair next to the night stand next to Jiya’s cot, observing Wyatt with a mixture of pity and interest.  “No need to be sorry, Wyatt.  She’s…family.  It’s only natural for you to be concerned.”

 

“Yeah…”Wyatt nodded. “will….will you let me know if anything changes?”

 

Agent Christopher smiled at him, “Of course.”

 

With that promise, Wyatt left Lucy’s room for his own.  Jessica was already sleeping, which was good because Wyatt wasn’t in the mood to talk. Not with her.

The next morning, Wyatt was awake again much earlier than usual.  He showered, had a piece of toast and a cup of coffee and then made his way to Lucy’s bedroom.

 

Jiya was in there now, checking her temperature and applying a cold compress to her head.  She looked up when she saw Wyatt’s figure in the doorway. “Hey” she said with a sad and tired look. 

 

“How’s she doing?” Wyatt asked, not daring to come any closer. 

 

“I think she’s gonna live.  Er…sorry, poor choice of word.  She’s going to be fine.  She was restless so I thought I’d sit here with her until she settled a bit.”  She looked up at the slumped figure of Wyatt. “You look tired”    

 

“I am” Wyatt acknowledged. He let out a sigh and turned to leave, but he couldn’t.  He stood rooted to the spot halfway between the hall and the room, gazing at the feverish form of Lucy Preston.  Not be able to contain himself any longer, he advanced into the room and sat down on the edge of her cot.  She did look better.  Her breathing was easier, her color was back.  He took her hand in his and caressed the back of it with his thumb, looking at her intently. He silently took her pulse.  She stirred a bit.  He allowed the knot in his chest to ease.  

 

She was going to be okay.

 

Wyatt could’ve stayed for hours with Lucy, but he felt Jiya’s eyes boring into the back of his head. He suddenly thought how awkward it must be for her – in her reality, Jessica had never died, meaning that Wyatt’s presence in her room, caressing Lucy’s hand was crossing the line of professionalism.  He got up to leave and told Jiya quietly, “Let me know if anything changes, if her fever comes back  I know I shouldn’t…but I still…”

 

Jiya gave him a pitying smile, “Yeah, I know…Rufus told me.”  He nodded and started to walk back down the hall before Jiya called him back, “Hey Wyatt?” He stopped and stuck his head in the door.  “Er…look, I know this isn’t easy for you given what happened in ’41.” Wyatt cursed Rufus under his breath, “No, no Wyatt, listen…I’m not judging you.  I..I get it.  In your timeline Jessica was dead and you and Lucy were….close.  I just don’t want you to feel like you are intruding, that’s all.”

 

Wyatt sighed, “Thanks Jiya”

 

“Anytime, Wyatt.”  she smiled.  “If you want to sit with her while I take a quick bathroom break…you can.” 

Wyatt nodded in gratitude as he took Jiya’s place in the chair next to Lucy’s bed.  She was restless, and Wyatt pressed a comforting hand against her face, as tears sprang to his eyes at the thought of never being able to hold her again.  He was caressing her face with his thumb when the alarm bells rang.

 

Shit.

 

Not wanting to leave Lucy’s side, but knowing he had to, Wyatt stayed until Jiya was back in the room. Wyatt pressed a soft kiss to Lucy’s forehead and whispered, “I’ll see you later, baby doll.” before turning on his heel and racing down the hall to be briefed on the next mission.  

 

Jiya watched him go as she wrung out the washcloth and reapplied it to Lucy’s head.  That action caused Lucy’s eyelids to flutter and she began to stir as Jiya quickly removed the cloth and grasped her hand in her own. Clearly in pain, Lucy winced as she shifted under the thin blankets surrounding her, one hopeful question escaping her lips as she came back to consciousness, “Wyatt?”


End file.
